


Sound and Vision

by acertaindefenseattorney



Category: Gyakuten Kenji | Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth, Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/M, genderbent character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acertaindefenseattorney/pseuds/acertaindefenseattorney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaire Gavin/Tyrell Badd drabble. Written as a gift for an RPer who played the genderbent 'Klaire Gavin', ie lady-Klav, and who had a ship with a Badd RPer. This scenario is otherwise unrelated to the line they actually had - they were cute, and fluffy, and I took it somewhat in the opposite direction. </p><p>Bleak, bleak angst lies herein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound and Vision

“Don’t you ever get tired of that?” 

Klaire pauses, glancing past her reflection in the mirror to the man stretched out on the bed behind her. The room is dull, hardly lit, almost dreary but for the glowing tip of the cigarette between his fingers - the only time he ever smokes, nowadays, is after sex. The bed is decidedly unmade, and the screwed up, balled up, sweat-damp sheets don’t look a bit out of place against the grey walls and drab carpet, the detective’s own ashen skin.

Sometimes, looking at her reflection, she thinks she stands out like a beacon in here. Wonders if she’s the only shot of colour in this man’s world. 

“Of what, liebe?” she trills. He calls it trilling. Her voice is light and sing-song at best of times, more so when she’s being deliberately obtuse. 

“Posing.” he draws a long drag off the cigarette - one he rolled himself, spilling tobacco on the sheets. She hates that - and rolls over to stub it out in the ash-tray beside the bed, exposing a trio of dark pink scars below his ribs, to the right of his spine. Lost him a kidney.

She sighs, crawling back onto the bed beside him, reaches across him for the bottle they’ve been sharing between them, smirking around the mouth. “Nein.”

“Nein,” he echoes, smirking back, and kisses her when she leans in, though the taste of her lipgloss bothers him, and he’s long tired of the sounds she makes when he touches her there, and there, and takes the bottle from her hands and places it safely out of reach and rolls, carefully, on top of her.


End file.
